


Beastie Boy T Shirts and Backwards Hats

by kho



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Episode Tag, First Kiss, First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-19
Updated: 2016-01-19
Packaged: 2018-05-14 23:33:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5763202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kho/pseuds/kho
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Please,” Steve says, steepling his hands together. “Please tell me there is video somewhere of Scrappy Danny Who Beats Everyones Asses. Please?”</p><p>(Episode tag to the latest ep, 6x12, this time not so much head canon as wanna be canon!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beastie Boy T Shirts and Backwards Hats

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Schmoop. I can't help it! Also, Jersey bashing done with love... 60% of my family lives there and I've been many, many, many times. 
> 
> Question: Can anyone tell me where i can participate in group squeeing about this show? Back in the day it was livejournal.... I'm out of that loop! I have lj and tumblr but i'm kind of floating in a pool of one over here as far as mutual squee. Lonely!

Usually when Steve crashes at Danny’s it because they’ve had a hard day. Sometimes its because Danny almost died. Sometimes it’s because Steve did. Sometimes it’s just because it’s fucking Tuesday and they felt like getting drunk and enjoying a day when one of them didn’t almost die. 

Actually it used to be that it was Danny crashing at Steve’s, but since moving into the bigger place it’s become an almost even trade. When Grace isn’t there Steve crashes in Grace’s bed in the spare bedroom and Danny always, always grins to himself in the morning when he walks in to see a snoring grown ass man sleeping on frilly pink sheets with carebears on the comforters usually squishing a stuffed bunny in his arms.

Tonight Steve crashes at Danny’s because his aunt died and he still hasn’t processed and Mary just left and neither one of them talk about it because Steve’s afraid to break and Danny’s afraid to break him, so instead they get really stupidly drunk by 8 pm and play poker and smoke cigars and laugh as they trade stories about being fuck ups as teenagers.

“I would pay money.”

Danny cackles. “I bet you would.”

“Pay _money_ to see scrappy little Danno beating up every kid that so much as looked at him the wrong way,” Steve says, grinning from ear to ear. “And I bet they never saw it coming.”

“Eventually my reputation got around, but yeah. They thought I was a pipsqueak cuz I was small, but.”

“But you’re scrappy,” Steve says fondly, smacking Danny’s hand as he throws a pair of Queens on the table. “I win.”

“Well shit,” Danny says, and shoves the pile of pretzels to Steve’s side of the table.   “But yeah, that was me. Anger Management Issues. I used to have them.”

Steve snorts. “Used to,” he says.

“Hey, I’ll have you know I haven’t randomly kicked someone's ass in over ten years,” Danny says, pointing at him. “Keep it up and I’ll start with you!”

Steve suddenly straightens up and gets a huge grin. “Eric!”

Danny frowns. “What?”

Steve turns around in his chair and screams in the direction of the den. “Hey E-Train get out here!”

“Yo,” Eric says, jogging into the kitchen in jeans and no shirt. “What up, Steve?”

“Please,” Steve says, steepling his hands together. “Please tell me there is video somewhere of Scrappy Danny Who Beats Everyones Asses. Please?”

Danny shakes his head. “No.”

“Actually?” Eric grins. “I think my Ma said--”

“Stella said nothing of the sort, nope, she did not,” Danny says, standing up and grabbing Eric by the shoulders, propelling him backwards. “Off, off, who invited you, grown up time.”

“Was he really that bad Eric,” Steve asks, following and laughing as Danny stumbles over Eric’s feet.

“Uncle D? Yeah,” Eric says, big ole bright smile as Danny makes a fist at him. “Uncle D was a badass. I know it must be hard to imagine what with D being all prim and proper with the pressed shirts and the repression and all--”

“Hey! I take you into my home, I feed you, I cloth you, and you repay me by telling stories on me?!” He points at the sky. “And also, repressed? I am not repressed!”

“But back in the day it was all Beastie Boys t-shirts and backwards hats and kicking ass and taking names,” Eric says, laughing as Danny rears back and punches Eric in the arm. “Kinda miss that guy, actually. This one’s a little boring.”

“Oh, you miss that guy,” Danny says, pushing Eric around and getting him into some wrestle choke hold, wrestling him towards the couch. “I’m still that guy, Eric, he’s right here and Imma serve you up for breakfast you little putz!”

It would have seemed more threatening if both weren’t howling with laughter.

They landed on the couch in a pile with Danny giving Eric what looked like a pretty damn painful noogie, Eric batting at him. “Keep it up, Unc, I’ve got tons more stories of yours I could be telling, I bet Stevo would be real interested in that time--”

“Wedgie, Eric, I will give you a fucking atomic wedgie so far up your motherfucking ass you will feel it for days!”

Eric laughs and shoves Danny off of him, bending over and picking up a shirt. “Whatever, D, I got a date, so consider yourself saved.”

Danny’s still catching his breath. “Jersey 12?”

Eric’s smile grows three times as big. “Yup.”

“Nice,” Danny says, and offers Eric a fist to tap.   “Been with this one a while, huh?”

“What does that mean, Jersey 12?”

Danny grins up at him. “It means here in the land of the amazing beach babes and gorgeous surfer chicks she may be considered only worthy of a ten, but in Jersey she’s above and beyond that.”

Steve frowns. “What a horrible thing to say,” he says reproachfully. Then, “Is Jersey full of dogs or something?”

“Not dogs, just meth heads,” Eric says with a shrug. “And trailer park trash, and girls that can’t get out of the 80’s with their bangs ten feet tall and frizzy hair.”

“You’ve seen Jersey Shore,” Danny says, spreading his hands. “Snookie ain’t an anomaly.”

“My Ma’s smokin’ hot though, Steve, you should meet her,” Eric says, grinning at him. “Ya’ll would be--”

“Hell no,” Danny says, shaking his head and making a chopping motion with his hand against his throat. “No, fuck no, hell no, fucking hell no, you are not fucking my sister.” He glares at Eric. “Also, you’re calling your mother smoking hot? That’s disgusting.”

“All my friends wanted to bang her, just saying.”

“Woah,” Danny says, squeezing his eyes shut. “Hey, hey, woah. That’s my sister!”

“I think I gotta meet your sister, Danny,” Steve says, leaning against the couch and grinning down at him.

“You will never, ever meet my sister, ever,” Danny says, poking him in the leg. “Shut that thought process down now, right now.”

“Got a picture,” Steve asks Eric, and Eric’s grin widens as he pulls out his phone and hands it to Steve. “Woah. Yeah. Okay. Probably better I don’t meet her.” He grins down at the phone until Danny smacks it out of his hand. “What’s your problem?”

“Down, Boo Boo, I will kill you!”

Steve laughs. “I thought we shot Boo Boo as a nickname down?”

“Late,” Eric says, popping his shirt collar and grabbing the keys to the jalopy he’d purchased with his first big paycheck. He grabs his phone and dusts it off and heads out the door.

Steve slides down onto the couch next to Danny, jostling his legs with his knee. “I hereby solemnly swear I will not fuck your sister, Daniel.”

“Thank you, Steven,” Danny says, grinning at him. “Are you drunk enough yet? I don’t think I’m drunk enough yet.”

“Nope,” Steve says, and grabs Danny’s hand and bodily hauls him up to head into the kitchen. “Plus we should eat.”

Two pizzas and four beers a piece later they’re leaning against each other on the couch debating who is cooler, Iron Man or Bruce Wayne. “Bruce Wayne’s got that whole cave thing and the batmobile and--”

“You’re saying the batmobile is cooler than, I mean seriously Steve, Tony Stark _is_ his traveling vessel, he’s fucking flying _himself_.”

“But Batman’s--”

“Very cool, don’t get me wrong, but he’s no Tony Stark,” Danny says, slicing his hand through the air, pointing a finger into Steve’s knee. “Batman is smart, but Tony Stark is ten kinds of sexy smart.”

Steve frowns. “Sexy?”

“Sexy smart,” Danny says, nodding. “Smart is sexy.”

“I’m not saying it’s not, I just didn’t know you thought Tony Stark was sexy.”

“Might also be that he’s played by Robert Downey Jr.” Danny grins and shuts his eyes, tucking his hands across his body and leaning down on the couch, head propped up by Steve’s shoulder. “Don’t worry babe, you’re plenty sexy too when you break out Steve the Science Guy,” he says, licking his lips. “I miss Steve the Science Guy, he never comes out to play any more.”

Steve looks down at him. “You think I’m sexy?”

Danny opens one eye to look at him. “Sure babe. I mean that’s just a statement of fact.” He gestures. “Also, have you seen yourself? The sight of you walking out of the ocean in a pair of boardshorts and nothing else is right out of a fucking porno.”   He frowns then and clears his throat. “And I’m perhaps a little overly drunk.”

“No no, keep it coming,” Steve says, grinning. “What kind of porno?”

Danny blows out a breath through his nose and closes his eyes again. “Like I said, it’s just a statement of fact. The sky is blue, the dirt is brown, I miss Jersey, and Steve McGarrett is a sexy motherfucker.”

“Takes ones to know one.”

Danny feels Steve’s fingers in his hair and opens his eyes again to look up at him. “What?”

Steve looks away, frowning. “I said it takes one to know one. It made sense in my head.”

“Is that your way of saying I’m sexy too,” Danny asks, and then busts out laughing. “Oh, Steve, you are not the smoothest.”

Steve laughs. “Okay fine, yeah, I’m saying my statement of fact is that you, too, are a sexy motherfucker.”

“Think I don’t know that,” Danny says, grinning and pulling up his shirt to show off his six pack. “Look at that shit right there McGarrett. Feel that,” he says, reaching up and taking Steve’s hand in his. “That’s solid sexy right there.”

Steve frowns and smacks Danny’s abs. Danny laughs. “I think mine are getting a little soft,” Steve says, frowning and looking down at himself, lifting his shirt. “I used to be ripped when I was active in the Navy.”

Danny rolled over and put his hand to Steve’s stomach. “Soft my ass, idiot, you are just as cut now as always,” he says, tracing the lines absently. His fingers catch on the scar that Hesse gave him when he shanked him in jail and his smile fades. “I hate this,” he says, rubbing at it like he can make it go away by buffing it out. “I hate every one of your scars, I wish they would all disappear. Everytime I see one I just want to go mental on everyone that ever touched you.”

Steve’s fingers are back in his hair, stroking the soft strands. “Scrappy Danno, back again.”

“Damn straight, Scrappy Danno,” Danny says, fingers stilling but not removing his hand.

“You mean that don’t you,” Steve says softly. “You really do want to beat up everyone that hurts the people you love.”

“It’s a struggle every day,” Danny says just as softly. “Anger Management isn’t a fix, Steve. It’s a stop gap.”

“That,” Steve says, tracing the line of Danny’s neck down to his shoulder blades. “Is what makes you sexy.”

Danny laughs a burst of air over Steve’s stomach. “The fact that of the two of us, I’m actually the one that’s probably the more neanderthaal?”

“Your fierce loyalty.”

Danny looks up at him and catches his eyes. “Back atcha.”

Looking into Danny’s eyes is always dangerous, it’s too easy to get lost in them. They do things to Steve. They make him feel things he doesn’t want to feel. Admit things he doesn’t want to admit. Say things he doesn’t want to say. They make him trace his fingers down the line of Danny’s jaw to cup his cheek with a lump in his throat and so much love in his heart that he doesn’t even know where to start trying to explain it.

“Your eyes,” Danny says so softly Steve can barely hear it. “They kill me McGarrett.”

“Yours,” Steve says back, shaking his head. Danny looks away and Steve closes his eyes to regain control of himself and does a pretty good job of it until he feels something wet slosh on his stomach. “What the--”

“Beer,” Danny says, wiping absently at Steve’s stomach, and then, impossibly, lowering his head to Steve’s stomach and licking it off. “Shame to waste good beer.”

“Danny.” Hot wet tongue tracing over the lines of his stomach, into his belly button, Danny’s hand splayed over his belly holding him still, radiating so much heat Steve can feel it in his toes.   “Danny this went pear shaped somewhere.”

“Better than pineapple shaped,” Danny mutters against his skin. “I fucking hate pineapples.”

“Danny.”

“You can’t tell me you’re not into it,” Danny says, flicking his eyes to look back up at Steve. “You do realize I can tell you’re hard right?”

Steve closes his eyes because he just can’t take the look in Danny’s eyes much longer or he may just come from that alone. “Danny.”

Danny lifts up and turns to straddle Steve’s hips and it’s then that he feels Danny’s hard on pressing into his stomach. Danny leans forward and brings the beer bottle to Steve’s lips, reaching up to tilt Steve’s head back and pour some in his mouth. A little dribbles out and he licks an impossibly hot wet stripe up Steve’s throat, yanking on Steve’s hair enough to hurt just that exquisitely right amount.

He leans in, lips inches from Steve’s. “You asked what kind of porn,” he whispers, tracing his hands up Steve’s torso under his shirt, rucking it up as he goes. He reaches back and drops th still half full bottle of beer right on the floor. Steve can hear it rolling and knows that beer is pooling at their feet. “The kind that’s made just for me. The kind that no one else is allowed to see. The kind that drives me fucking insane for five years until I just can’t take it anymore and I have to, Steve, I have to taste you.”

Steve reaches out his hands to travel up Danny’s back under his shirt and pull him closer, leaning until he’s breathing into Danny’s mouth. “Then what the fuck are you waiting for?”

Danny’s eyes close. “Okay,” he says, voice shaky. “That was. You’re maybe not as not smooth as I implied.”

“Come on, Danny,” Steve growls, panting in anticipation.

“Thing is,” Danny says, and Steve growls again and Danny huffs out a laugh. “Thing is,” he says, opening his eyes to look into Steve’s. “Is I’m kinda drunk, but I’m not drunk enough, Steven. I’m not drunk enough to pretend this was an accident and that I didn’t want this.”

Steve loses his patience and yanks Danny forward, their teeth clacking together a little sloppily as he opens his mouth to draw Danny’s tongue into his mouth, his own into Danny’s. “Me either,” he mumbles against his mouth. “Now shut up and kiss me.”

Danny reaches down and yanks Steve’s shirt off over his head and then divests himself of his own and then leans in and yanks Steve’s breath away as well, tongue swirling in his mouth, hands cupping Steve’s face, grabbing onto his ears and pulling him closer and closer, pressing his dick against Steve’s belly and his ass down against Steve’s own throbbing hard on.

“This,” Danny says, taking Steve’s hand and putting it on his hard cock, pressing Steve’s hand down over it and Steve is so frustrated that there’s a thick layer of jeans between his fingers and Danny’s skin, “is why you can’t fuck my sister.”

Steve grinds up against Danny’s ass and grins as Danny’s eyes fall shut. “You feel me,” he whispers. “How hard you make me, how crazy you drive me, how much I want you? What the hell makes you think I’d _want_ to fuck your sister?”

Danny’s moan is a whine and it makes Steve’s hair stand on end. “Steve, fuck, naked, now,” Danny says in a rush, pulling back and attacking Steve’s cargo pants. “Clothes off, I need--”

Steve’s too busy unbuttoning Danny’s jeans to pay attention, shoving his hands down the back of Danny’s jeans to squeeze his ass, his amazing round, firm ass, leaning forward to bite at the juncture of Danny’s neck and shoulder, laughing as Danny impatiently yanks at Steve’s jeans like maybe he can just rip them off. “Legs are attached, Danno, gonna have to take a little more time than that.”

Danny stands and does some kind of hop skip kick dance and his jeans go flying off in the general direction of where the fuck ever and then he’s leaning forward and kissing Steve in an almost vicious way, like fight or fuck are interchangeable, and then gets a good hold of Steve’s cargos by the knee pockets and yanks them right off.

Then he’s back in Steve’s lap and he’s got his hand around Steve’s cock and his own and he’s kissing him even deeper and Steve thinks he may never breathe again ever and he wouldn’t have it any other way. “Not gonna last,” Danny’s panting into his mouth. “Too long… wanted too--”

“Shit, Danny, just,” Steve says squeezing his eyes shut as he can already feel his orgasm building, and reaches down to cover Danny’s hand with his own, squeezing harder, making him pump faster, loving he way Danny’s thighs feel clenched against his. “Come on.”

Just as it’s about to happen Danny rips his mouth away from Steve’s and leans his forehead against his, panting and moaning and making the best sounds in the entire world, and then says, “Steve, seriously, listen to me--”

“Danny!”

“Listen, this isn’t--”

“Don’t you ever shut up?”

“-bullshit, do you understand me, listen, I love you, okay, this isn’t the beer or drunk or bad week or day or year or fuck, any of that, this is I love you,” he says, grinding down against him, and then he freezes and comes, loud in Steve’s ear as he presses his mouth to Steve’s temple and rides it out.

Steve closes his eyes and feels overwhelmed and rocked and shaken and then Danny’s hand starts moving again and he can’t catch his breath or move or speak or do anything but feel and come.

After a few moments to catch his breath he threads his hands in Danny’s hair and pulls him back so he can look at him in the eye. “Anything,” he says, putting a hand on Danny’s chest over his heart. “Anything, everything to do with us, me and you? Will always be love,” he says, looking into Danny’s eyes and not even trying to fight falling into them. “And if you ever doubt that I’ll kick your fucking ass.”

Danny closes his eyes and places a kiss on Steve’s forehead and it’s so stupidly sickeningly sweet that it makes Steve have to swallow past a lump in his throat. “Threats so early in the relationship, partner. This doesn’t bode well.”

“Shut up, Danny.”


End file.
